


A skill no child should ever have to learn

by stjarna



Series: Season 4 - Coda Challenge [28]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Framework arc, Mention of Domestic Violence, Mention of abuse, Oneshot, Short, Trigger Warnings, angsty, very loosely related to promo for 4x20, with a somewhat hopefullish but open ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 20:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10771515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjarna/pseuds/stjarna
Summary: Jemma tries to stop The Doctor from using The Looking Glass (further description in the notes section that may contain slight spoilers based on the promo for 4x20)





	A skill no child should ever have to learn

**Author's Note:**

> In order for this fic to work two things have to happen which are maybe potentially ma-hay-be hinted at in the promo for 4x20: a) Jemma finds out that Papa Fitz is around and has raised his son in The Framework; b) It comes to a face-to-face between Jemma and The Doctor when Jemma tries to stop him from using The Looking Glass.
> 
> Title taken from [Patrick Stewart. The legacy of domestic violence.](https://www.theguardian.com/society/2009/nov/27/patrick-stewart-domestic-violence)

“ _I’m_ Leopold James Fitz. And I know _exactly_ who I am!” He tightens his grip on the gun, staring down at the woman across from him who’s trying to stop him from using the Looking Glass to join the love of his life in the other world.

“ _Fine!_ ” the woman exclaims. “I believe you. I believe you know _exactly_ who you are, but tell me this, Leopold James Fitz: Do you _like_ who you are?”

He clenches his jaw, trying to ignore the sweaty feeling in the palm of his hand.

“Do you like flinching every time he takes a step closer? Do you like it when your stomach _churns_ every time he makes you complete one of his _many_ words of wisdom? Do you like how a shiver runs down your spine every time he calls you by your first name? Every time he calls you ‘son’? Do you like that he took you from your mother when you were ten? Do you like that the earliest memory you have is of him beating her _senseless_ when she begged him to take his anger out on her instead of their _three_ -year-old son? Do you like the memory of trying to protect her when you were barely six and he shoved you aside so hard that you fell down the stairs and broke your arm?”

“How do you—?”

“You know _exactly_ who you are? _Fine!_ But look me in the eye and tell me that you’ve never wondered ‘what if’? Look me in the eye and tell me you’ve never wondered what your life would have been like without him and with _her_?”

He watches how the gun in his hand begins to tremble and he feels helpless. He forces his muscles to tighten. Tighter. Even tighter until they begin to burn. “I’d be a weakling, a pushover, a—”

She shakes her head. “No, Fitz, no. You are _anything_ but weak. You’re courageous. You’re _so_ strong. I’ve always admired how strong you are. How, no matter how people treat you, you preserve your humanity, your empathy, your compassion. Because that takes so much more strength than giving into the anger and the hate. I would know. I’ve given into that, and you tried to tell me that I was better than that.”

He stares at her. Confused. Overwhelmed.

“She’s safe there? In the other world?” he hears himself say. “He’s not there? He’s not hurting her?”

A smile flashes across her face. “No, Fitz. He’s not hurting her. Nor you. He left when you were ten. And you never looked back. And you and she are _so_ close. She’s the most wonderful person. And she raised the most wonderful son. One I’d be so proud to call my husband if I got a chance.”

He stares at the gun in his hand, watching it tremble, feeling it slip from his grip. He pulls his arm back, looks at the shaking weapon as the world around him disappears.

Then the shaking stops.

He looks back up and sees the woman standing right in front of him.

He stretches out his hand and she smiles softly as she takes the gun from him.

He can’t help but smile himself.

_She’s safe there._

_So is he._

**Author's Note:**

> Part of what gave me the idea for this fic was that I keep wondering if the regret that AIDA fixed for Fitz isn't related to his father, but to his mother. Like maybe he regretted not being able to protect her from his father or he felt like he was making her life more difficult after his father left, 'cause she had to raise him alone, earn enough money, and so forth. And AIDA's 'brilliant' way of 'fixing' that was to remove his mother from his (and his father's) life (which lucky for AIDA also gave her exactly what _she_ needed from Fitz). I don't know, it's not a perfect theory, but it breaks my heart so I had to write something down. Gosh, this story arc -- as much as I love it -- is killing me.


End file.
